Three Saw
by QuietShriek
Summary: At Harry's funeral, Ron, Ginny, and Harry himself reminiscence about Harry's relationship with Ginny. It's fascinating how three people can see the same thing so differently, isn't it?
1. Ron's Side

Harry had gone down honorably, defeating Lord Voldemort and saving the world. I guess that was how he would have wanted it to end-although he may have wanted us to know how he died. I had been asked to do the eulogy at his funeral, so here I was in front of a room full of crying people. I'd managed to get through a good portion without crying, but once I'd reached the middle, I felt my eyes begin to well up. "He was a kind man, a good friend, and most of all, a loving husband," I said, recalling the night he married Ginny.  
  
"Hey, Harry! What's wrong, mate?" I asked him cheerily. He seemed awfully angry considering he had just gotten married.  
  
He looked up at me as if he had just seen me for the first time. "I don't. I don't know if I. deserve Ginny," he said slowly, taking a seat at the bar.  
  
That was Harry for you, always thinking things through carefully. "'Course you do! You two were a match made in heaven!" I told him reassuringly. I glanced at my younger sister, who was dancing cheerily with her good friend, Draco. (Even if I still didn't particularly like him, he had greatly improved his behavior since our school days.) She saw us and waved at us, smiling broadly.  
  
I guess Harry didn't see her though, because instead of waving back, he simply glowered at his fire whiskey. "Match made in heaven? Sounds awfully odd. And then why's she over with Draco if she loves me so much?" Harry asked, smirking at me.  
  
I felt myself flush. "Ginny says it all the time... Besides, you and I danced with 'Mione when she got married to Draco, remember?" I replied, grinning. I was glad Harry cared so much about Ginny; they'd be happy together, and I wouldn't have to hurt him later.  
  
Harry's eyes widened as if he just figured something out. "You're right, Ron. I did, didn't I? Come on then, let's have a drink," he said, ordering himself another fire whiskey. I grinned again and ordered myself one too. Getting drunk on your wedding night was like a tradition in my circle of friends.  
  
* * * * * The music slowed to a stop and Ginny walked over to Harry and me. "Oh Lord, tell me you two didn't drink yourself stupid," she said, wrinkling her nose at the site of the pair of us.  
  
"Sorry, love. Tradition," Harry responded, standing up. I managed to suppress a laugh when he toppled over onto Ginny, grabbing her hair for support. She gave a yelp of shock, and several surrounding people laughed. Harry mumbled, "Sorry again, pet."  
  
"It's okay, Harry. It didn't hurt that badly anyways," she said, smiling, but rubbing the back of her head nonetheless. She kissed him on the cheek and the pair of them made their way outside. What a truly happy couple. I just knew that their marriage would last much longer than mine with Luna had.  
  
* * * * *  
  
I was so excited! I hadn't seen Ginny or Harry in about a month, and they were coming for dinner! "Luna, what time were they supposed to be here?" I asked my roommate impatiently (Luna & I long ago divorced but were still close friends and lived together nonetheless). Where could they be? I could have sworn they were already supposed to be here.  
  
"They're already here, smart one," she replied, opening the front door. And so they were! Harry was smiling broadly and Ginny was giving her sweet little half-smile. She never gave a bright, wide smile anymore, like she did during school, but what did it matter?  
  
Harry bent down and kissed Ginny. "Hey Ron! Sorry we're late, but we had a bit of a delay getting here. Business," Harry said, grinning still. Ginny smiled again before heading off into the kitchen with Luna. Lord knows what they were talking about. Harry kept glancing towards the kitchen suspiciously, but he was probably just wondering what the two ladies were concocting for a meal.  
  
We talked for hours. Ginny seemed awfully withdrawn, but not half as a insane as Luna used to be. It had been a phase with Luna, so it was probably the same thing with Ginny. She and Harry left around midnight, Harry carrying Ginny because she had fallen asleep. They looked so. there was no other word for it, cute together. It was touching.  
  
My voice was beginning to crack now; I had no idea how much longer I could make it without crying. "He cared most of all about his beloved wife. He was always at her side. He even stopped an evil, foul man from harming her. He saved many, many lives." I can't help but reminiscence on how things could have been-should have, if you ask me. Now I was remembering Draco's funeral and how Harry had saved Ginny from that monster.  
  
Not many people had chosen to show up at Draco's funeral. I suppose it was only expected, though. I mean, when Harry told us what had happened, he seemed to lose his popularity drastically. Honestly, if you attempt to rape someone-especially someone as well-liked as Ginny, and her husband is forced to kill you, doesn't that permit people to not like you? Anyways, poor Ginny was bawling her eyes out in the front row.  
  
The service didn't really last long. There seemed to be nothing good to say. Draco Malfoy was an evil little bastard, but nobody was willing to get up there and say it. Harry came over to me shortly after. "Poor Ginny. When I told her? She went berserk; went and tripped over a chair. See that nasty bruise?" he told me.  
  
I was deeply upset that I hadn't been the one to help Ginny out, but I had had no way of knowing. If I couldn't be the one to help my sister, I was at least glad it was my best friend- her husband. You know what though? I don't think I'd have been able to murder a human and yet Harry was. It was only further proof of their love.  
  
Ginny was still crying silently and told us she wanted to be left alone. I was so proud of Harry though; he made sure she was always within his site. He was such a loving husband.  
  
"Harry Potter was a good man until the very end. We will always remember him as not only the man who stopped Lord Voldemort, but the Man-Who-Lived," I concluded, finally starting to cry. I miss Harry, my best friend. I've already lost Hermione to madness, and now there's no one left. Well, there's Ginny, but as I watch her now, laughing hysterically, I suspect madness not to be too far off. The poor thing really must have loved Harry- why else would she laugh so? I hope she doesn't lose herself to the madness, but as Hermione did so with Draco, Ginny may do the same. I don't think I've ever seen such a happy, loving couple as Harry and Ginny Potter. 


	2. Ginny Speaks Up

"He was a kind man, a good friend, and most of all, a loving husband," my brother Ron stated, tears sparkling in his eyes.  
  
Ha! I thought. The day my late husband married me, he stopped loving me. I shuddered recalling our wedding reception.  
  
"Harry, sweetie, may I dance just once with Draco?" I asked my new husband.  
  
His once twinkling green eyes immediately clouded over. "But Ginny, I want to dance with you," he said, gripping my arm a little too tightly for my liking.  
  
"Of course, but Draco's my best friend, Harry. Besides, I've danced with you the whole night. Please?" I requested, giving him my most pathetic pouty face. I understood that Harry didn't really like Draco, but Draco had long ago reformed. Why couldn't Harry see that? Hermione had-she had even gone so far as to marry him despite all those times in school when he called her horrid names and set nasty rumors off about her.  
  
Harry's expression remained cold, but at least he released my arm. "Fine," he said stiffly, heading towards the bar.  
  
I had my dance with Draco, and it was wonderful. After, however, I was forced to help Harry home, as he was dead drunk. The second I closed the door to his apartment-ours now, he slapped me. Hard. "That was for the dance, wench."  
  
It took a moment for me to register what he had just done. Surely he hadn't slapped me? But the stinging pain convinced me otherwise "What?" I whispered, massaging my cheek.  
  
He slapped me again. "Did I stutter?" he asked coldly before turning away.  
  
I slept on the couch that night.  
  
"He cared most of all about his beloved wife. He was always at her side. He even stopped an evil, foul man from harming her. He saved many, many lives," Ron continued, his voice starting to crack.  
  
Once again, it was glorified nonsense. He ruined many lives, just as he had saved so many. And always at my side? He stalked me like a predator stalks its prey. He was always ready to pounce and so he did, upon my closest and dearest friend, Draco Malfoy, who had no intention of harming me.  
  
"Harry! Please stop!" I begged, tears pouring down my face. Damn his drinking habits; his excuses. He had no reason for this abuse. I had been nothing but loving to him, the perfect wife. I cooked his meals, I cleaned the apartment, and I always helped him through his hangovers.  
  
"Not until you admit it," he stated calmly, as if there was nothing wrong with this. He then punched me again, right in the stomach.  
  
I fell to my knees in agony. What was he talking about? What had I done to deserve this? "Admit what?" I asked aloud, wondering what I could have possibly done to anger him.  
  
"That little friend of yours, Malfoy, you two are seeing each other. Don't deny it!" he hissed at me, twisting my arm behind my back painfully.  
  
What the hell was he on about? Draco and I were best friends, nothing more. "Harry, please, I'd never-"  
  
"SHUT UP, WHORE!" he roared, interrupting me. I hated seeing him like this. I hated the way he hurt me all the time. He kicked me again before storming off. "Malfoy will pay," I heard him mutter, as he slammed the door on his way out.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"You killed him didn't you?" I whispered in horror, staring at my husband in a new light. I had thought him capable of many things, but never this.  
  
"Perhaps I did, love, but that is none of your business. You'll keep your pretty little mouth shut, won't you?" he said, smirking cruelly. Where was the man I used to know and love? Where? I had married a wonderful, kind man, but he had long ago disappeared. Now I was married to a murderer.  
  
I hesitated for a moment. Could I really stand aside and let Harry get away with this? I felt a punch hit my face and quickly decided. "Of course I will," I whispered, trying my best to keep the tears from spilling. Draco, please forgive me, I mentally asked my now dead friend. How could Harry have thought we had done anything together? Didn't he trust me? That was a stupid question, if he trusted me, would this be happening? No.  
  
Another swing hit my chest. "Good," he said. "Then let's get ready for his funeral."  
  
You know, I regret not stepping forward now. All the pain Harry caused me, all of it could have stopped then. But I kept my mouth shut. I hid the bruises; I never uttered one word about what had truly happened. Harry told everyone Draco had tried to rape me or some other nonsense. It tore apart Draco's family. His wife, Hermione, went crazy. Their children are in therapy. His mother, Narcissa, committed suicide. All because I kept my mouth shut.  
  
I realized tears were about to spill out of my eyes, but I was determined not to cry at Harry's funeral, so I held them back. Ron went on, "Harry Potter was a good man until the very end. We will always remember him as not only the man who stopped Lord Voldemort, but the Man-Who-Lived." With those final words, Ron burst into tears.  
  
I recalled the last time I saw Harry alive. He was drunk, as usual.  
  
I couldn't stop myself from crying. "Harry, what happened to you? You used to be so. Nice." I sobbed, watching Harry intently.  
  
After he had put me in the hospital, he still continued to hit me. He had done so just moments ago. "What happened-What the hell are you talking about? I'm the same Harry you married." He slapped me. Probably for questioning his personality. "I'm going to go now, you stupid bitch! Don't expect me back for a while."  
  
I nodded, still crying. "Don't you love me anymore?"  
  
Thinking back, I never heard his response. Either that or I don't remember it. No matter though, I don't care. He died the next day, after he defeated Voldemort. No one really knows how he died; the Coroner couldn't find a thing wrong with his body-not even a trace of magic left over from Avada Kedavra. I don't miss Harry. I hate him. And I'm glad he's gone. He never did me any good after we were married. I look around me and realize now that the service is over. People are standing around, about to leave. Everyone is crying or sobbing except for me. I throw back my head and laugh. 


	3. Harry's Excuse

There was only one thing that I didn't get to say to Ginny before I died. And that was to explain myself. I suppose it's too late now, though. The most I can really do is watch my beloved Virginia at my funeral. Nobody here even knows why I'm dead, either. See, Voldemort was too inhuman to die, so when I tried to Avada Kedavra him, my life was transferred into his so that he could die; only I died too. It's odd, really. Being able to watch your own funeral, that is. It's rather flattering though, because all I'm hearing is the good side of the story-which is all Ron and the others got to see. "He was a kind man, a good friend, and most of all, a loving husband," Ron stated, somewhere between despair and anxiety (from having to talk in front of load of people, I'll bet.). It's really weird seeing your best friend cry because you are dead. It's even weird because he's leaving out all the messy details, which isn't really his fault because he didn't know about those. If you look at the cold, hard facts I doubt I could be considered a "kind man", much less a "loving husband". But I was. I loved Ginny with all my heart and soul-no matter how corny that sounds.  
  
I specifically remember our wedding party. It was just find until she requested that one, stupid dance.  
  
Ginny looked up at me pleadingly. "Harry, sweetie, may I have one dance with Draco?" she asked me sweetly.  
  
I hate Malfoy. He knows Ginny better than I could ever even hope to. I knew that if he should ever fall in love with her (which I suspect he already had), he could make Ginny his faster than you can say "unfair". "But Ginny," I responded, grabbing her arm, "I want to dance with you." And it was true; I did want to dance with her.  
  
Now the only thing I loathe more than Malfoy is the pouty face. When Ginny gives me that look my will melts into a muddle. And you know she did? She gave me the pouty face. "Of course, but Draco's my best friend, Harry. Besides, I've danced with you all night. Please?" she begged pleadingly.  
  
I had no choice but to allow it, as she refused to stop giving me that look. "Fine," I responded, letting go of her arm. She smiled and skipped off to Malfoy. I began to feel pangs of fear. What if he stole my wife on our wedding night? I began to doubt I could trust her now. There was only one solution to all of this.  
  
Beer.  
  
Beer was the only thing that could never truly leave you. Whenever you needed it, it was there. I made my way over towards the bar, when Ron stopped me.  
  
"Hey, Harry! What's wrong, mate?" he asked me, smiling like a maniac. That was Ron for you; always cheery even when you were not in the mood for happiness.  
  
I had to think quickly, though, or else I might look rather stupid, talking about being jealous of Malfoy. "I. I don't really know. if I deserve Ginny," I said carefully, calculating my words.  
  
I took a seat at the bar just as Ron replied, "Of course you do! You two are a match made in heaven!" Why couldn't he stop smiling so? I know, I wasn't telling him the whole truth, but he didn't have to go and sound like some episode from "Seventh Heaven". (Why Dudley found it interesting, I shall never know.) I ordered a fire whiskey for myself, glaring at nothing in particular.  
  
"Match made in heaven? Sounds awfully odd, Ron. And why's she over with Draco is she loves me so much?" I asked him, annoyed. Ron's my best friend, and I know I shouldn't be upset with him, but I just can't help it. I sipped my fire whiskey boredly.  
  
Ron turned beat red at my comment. "Ginny says it all the time. Besides, you and I danced with 'Mione at her wedding with Draco, remember?" Ron replied, still smiling.  
  
That was it. That was the answer to my problem. Malfoy was getting back at me for having a dance with his wife. Except that knowing Malfoy, he would take it much farther, and I would have to keep a close eye on him. "You're right, Ron. I did, didn't I? Come on then, let's have a drink!" I said, ordering myself another fire whiskey. It was time to get drunk.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ginny had to help me home. By the time we had finally arrived at our flat, I was dead drunk and fed up with the notion of her and Malfoy. She turned shut the door behind us and turned around, smiling. That must another Weasley thing. They all had that awful smile that was too damn happy for their own good. I slapped her. "That was for the dance, wench." She had asked for it, and what if Malfoy had stolen her away? He was married and she would wind up in loads of trouble. I was helping her.  
  
After a moment of stunned silence, she whispered, "What?" Ginny touched the spot on her face gingerly, tears sparkling at her eyes.  
  
But I didn't care. I slapped her again-harder. "Did I stutter?" I asked. She had to understand this; how could she be so stupid as to not understand? It was for her own good. I stormed off into the bedroom, slamming the door. She could sleep out there for all I cared. I loved her, but she just didn't get it.  
  
"He cared most of all about his beloved wife. He was always at her side. He even stopped an evil, foul man from harming her. He saved many, many lives," I heard Ron say, his voice hoarse from the tears that were bound to come. I know that it's all true, but it doesn't sound right. I wish it did, but it can't. I had to stop Malfoy, so I killed him, but you just don't feel like it was the right thing afterwards. He and Ginny were always talking and owling one another. There had to have been an affair going on, even if I couldn't ever prove it. She begged me not to do it; she begged me not to kill him. But I did.  
  
I knocked on his door, tapping my foot impatiently. Moments later, I heard footsteps, and then his face appeared in the door. "Hey, Harry! What's up? Something wrong?" Malfoy asked me, apparently noting my expression.  
  
"Yeah, it's about Ginny. Can I come in for a moment?" I asked him, fingering my wand in my pocket. It was perfect. I could kill him, say he tried to rape Ginny, and I could get away with it too. It was too perfect.  
  
"Of course. Is she alright?" he replied worriedly, holding the door open wider. I stepped inside, glancing around as he shut the door behind me.  
  
"She. She's fine, I suppose," I said, reassuring myself that I hadn't hurt her that much. I took out my wand, twirling it between my fingers. "I just needed to ask you a question."  
  
"Okay. What?" Malfoy asked, glancing down at my wand. If I didn't do this soon, he might catch on. He left me no choice.  
  
"Avada kedavra," I said, aiming my wand directly at him. A flash of green light appeared, and Draco slumped to the floor; dead. I felt no guilt; he had been with my wife too much. And Harry Potter doesn't get jealous over just anything. I smiled to myself and walked outside.  
  
* * * * *  
  
The only time Ginny ever got her way after that was when she requested to go to Malfoy's funeral. I had forced her to agree with my story of attempted rape (The wizarding world wouldn't have understood my motives otherwise.), but I suppose I was in a mighty good mood when I said we could go to his funeral.  
  
I wasn't stupid though; I made sure I could see her at all times. I couldn't let her slip away and blab to someone about the truth. She cried hysterically throughout the whole thing. It was sad, I suppose; Hermione, my second closest friend went mad afterwards. She had to have had it coming though; after all, she married the monster.  
  
"Harry! What happened to you? You used to be so. nice," my wife sobbed, her face tear streaked. I hate to see her cry, but how else am I to keep her in line? I had put her in the hospital once-it was accidental, I swear. I never meant to hurt her like that, never. But she had nearly told someone the secret about Malfoy, what was I supposed to?  
  
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm the same Harry you married!" I retorted, angry. I slapped her, just for good measure. I love her, but she doesn't seem to love me, and I just can't understand why. I hit her, but she has to know that I care. Doesn't she?  
  
She nodded her head in retreat, still crying. I turned and began to leave. Tonight I would face Lord Voldemort-I could feel it. I heard her whisper, "Don't you love me any more?"  
  
If only she knew.  
  
Ginny, I really am sorry you doubted my love. I was never good at expressing emotion to begin with. See, I never got to explain to you-to her that is, that the only reason I did all of that was because I cared about her. I loved her. I was jealous. I was a jealous man, and that jealousy ate me up. So now, I sit here, and Ginny begins to laugh. Laugh. What can she find funny about my death? Didn't she love me? I know she used to-but does she now?  
  
I certainly love her. 


End file.
